


midnight, midwinter

by oh_no_what_plot



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fireplaces, Fluff, Gen, Winter, that's it that's the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:00:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28669620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_no_what_plot/pseuds/oh_no_what_plot
Summary: the four friends unwind by the warmth of a fire
Relationships: Sirius Black & Remus Lupin & Peter Pettigrew & James Potter, implied wolfstar maybe?
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	midnight, midwinter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Vivian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vivian/gifts).



Somewhere in an ancient and mysterious castle, dazed by the lull of the turn of the year, a small group of teenagers lounged around a crackling fire. The rest of the room was empty of people yet full of blankets, forgotten snacks, and deep red and gold scarves. The air was heavy with tiredness and the cushions around them soft and inviting, but somehow the four of them remained conscious. One of them, the one closest to sleep, yawned and snuggled deeper into the corner he had found.

“You’re not falling asleep on us just yet, are you, Wormtail?” teased one of the others, voice sharp despite the atmosphere. “We’ve barely started the party.”

Wormtail blinked and tried to sit up, but a glance at the friend who had commented was enough to make him realise it was only a joke. “‘M tired, Prongs.”

“I don’t blame you,” said another friend, this one sitting on a couch with a book in one hand, the other hand gently running through the final friend’s hair. He shifted a little, and the boy on his lap grumbled sleepily. “It must be early morning by now.”

“Only just past midnight, actually,” Prongs said, checking his intricate watch through round glasses. “C’mon, Moony, don’t send us up yet.”

“I won’t, I won’t. I need to finish this chapter.” Which, of course, meant that he would be here for much more of the night, until he finally realised how far into his own little world he had retreated.

“Sure you will, Moony. Sure you will.” Prongs leaned back to observe the darkened ceiling for a moment, before sneaking a glance back at Moony for a reaction. “And how long will that take?”

Moony made a noncommittal noise and continued reading.

For some reason, all four students had found themselves staying over at the school for Christmas, though the most likely candidate was out of solidarity. The one with messy hair, who was currently falling asleep snuggled up on Moony, was not quite as welcome at his own house as the others, and so had made his home here. His friends were eager to help, cancelling their plans in favour of sticking by his side. Here in the depths of morning, all troubles were forgotten, the only thoughts being that of the warm fireplace.

There was a soft thump as Prongs dropped his cushion in favour of sitting up, stretching his arms lazily. His eyes tracked the movements of a tiny golden ball that had come into his reach, before he reached out suddenly to snatch it out of the air and safely into his palm. Where one would normally flinch, his friends just watched in a mixture of awe, amusement and fond exasperation.

“Even the Snitch is tired,” Prongs chuckled, turning it over in his hands as its wings fluttered weakly. “You think I’ll need to find a new one?”

“We’re all tired,” the fourth friend replied, “especially after the Christmas party.”

“That was one  _ hell _ of a party,” his bespeckled friend grinned, leaning back once more as he recalled the wild night. Flashes of memories struck the four, brief glimpses of chaos, and joy, and something soft and warm and profound that could only be replicated when all four were happy and together. Now, for example.

Moony snorted, breaking the spell. “Hell is an appropriate word for it.”

“Oh come on, Moony, you loved it.”

His response was an eyeroll.

The night drifted on, slow and hazy, the friends slipping in and out of sleep and conversations fading and reappearing like the twinkling stars of the sky, faintly visible through the tall common room windows.

Somewhere in the distant future, the four would look back on nights such as these with foggy longing, details blurred but the memory strong. Peace was hard to find, and harder to keep, and fate did not have merciful plans for these four. But for now, they had no cares, simply enjoying the warmth and each other’s company.

The one in Moony’s lap - Padfoot - got up at around one in the morning, upsetting the setup. He ignored their complaints and started wandering around, muttering softly and stirring something in a teapot. After a few minutes, he returned with four mugs of hot chocolate, which his friends took gratefully.

“Chocolate, my favourite,” Moony commented vaguely, still invested thoroughly in his book.

“We know,” the other three said in unison, before laughing quietly.

Whether Moony chose not to answer or simply was too engrossed to hear was not clear, but he did not say anything in response. Meanwhile, the others chattered away, a little rejuvenated by the drink. When they had finished, Padfoot collected the mugs and deposited them somewhere they had certainly not come from, though none of them could summon the will to discourage him from this. They could deal with it in the morning.

They could deal with it all in the morning.

Padfoot laid his head on Moony’s lap once more, tiredness finally kicking in as he felt his eyes droop shut. He wouldn’t be the last to sleep, he thought to himself, though the vow was half-hearted and already drowned out by the white noise of sleep.

One by one, they dropped off into slumber, until only Prongs remained, the Snitch once more released and now roaming around the room. He watched with no intention to catch it, head leaning back against the couch and thoughts wandering through his memories and dreams. His fingers still tapped gently against the cushion, movement never ceasing. Never stilling. Not yet.

Eventually, Moony awoke and closed his book. He glanced over at his friends. The soft gaze landed on the still-awake Prongs, who raised his head a little and hummed in question. Moony paused before answering, eyes on the unusually peaceful scene.

There were many things he felt, things he could say. That he loved them, and that he wouldn’t hesitate to give his life for any one; that he was lucky to have even met them; that there was no group of friends more special and important and wonderful. That no matter what, he would never let them go.

He didn’t say any of them.

He didn’t need to.

“Good night, Prongs.”

It was all he would ever need to say for them to know exactly what he meant.

**Author's Note:**

> very sorry this is so short, but i hope you enjoyed! have a good year <3


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